


The First Inklings of Respect

by TheGirlInTheBlackVeil



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlInTheBlackVeil/pseuds/TheGirlInTheBlackVeil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only the privileged can read, a fact that Arthur Pendragon is oblivious to, since he's a prat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Inklings of Respect

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short* little story, sort of like a missing scene, set after The Dragon's Call but before The Poisoned Chalice. 
> 
> *It was supposed to be shorter.

He knows Morgana’s furious because she barges into his chambers without knocking, she’s also already ranting before the door has had the chance to swing shut. Instead of directing his attention to what she is ranting about he contemplates whether or not he can finally be rid of the country bumpkin his father thrust upon him under the basis that he forgot to lock the prince’s chamber door, there has to be grounds for dismissal there, something about welcoming thieves and assassins maybe?

When it comes to dealing with Morgana it’s essential the door remains locked as a means to stall her. He’s had the discussion with her multiple times before, even his father ruined a few dinners arguing with her about her bad habit. The thing is Morgana is perfectly capable of knocking and respecting people’s privacy so long as she’s aware of such things, the problem is when she’s in a rage; it’s like all her manners have flown out the window, or perhaps it’s her capacity for rational thought that disappears. Either way the fact of the matter is that Morgana is like fire, she’s passionate about things and her mood can change in a flash, once she gets in a mood it’s all consuming and she has but one thought and it’s not about privacy. Her temperament is a part of her personality and it’s not going to change any time soon. As such she’ll keep barging into chambers; it’s such a normal occurrence that Arthur’s come to expect it.

Nothing truly horrible has happened, _yet_. She’s woken him a few times, caught him while he’s changing, thankfully behind his dressing screen. The worst instance was when he was in the bath. Luckily she hadn’t seen anything and while, at the time, it had been mortifying he can look back on it with humor now. She had paused mid-rant and blushed a furious crimson, did a decent impression of a fish both with the gaping expression and the blubbering of noises she had produced, her mind finally processed the situation and she had shut up, turned on her heel, and stalked off. She hadn’t failed to knock again for a good six months, six _months_ , he had almost been fooled into thinking the issue was resolved. To sweeten the deal forcing her to knock seemed to bring back some rational thought and lessen her anger meaning he spent less time being yelled at and more time in a nice, calm negotiation. It didn’t last though and she was back to her old ways, it was only a matter of time before she barged in on something truly embarrassing, whether that’d be him using the chamber pot, standing completely naked, with a woman, or having some time to himself. He feared the day and took all the necessary precautions to ensure it never did. Hence the door had to remain locked, never mind it was a hassle for Merlin to have to lock and unlock it with his hands full, and no, Arthur wouldn’t be doing it himself that was what _servants_ were for.

A sudden pause followed by a; “Are you even listening!?” being screeched in a way he associated with harpies, brings him out of his thoughts.

“Honestly, no, I wasn’t.” Morgana isn’t prone to violence, at least not unless there’s a sword in her hand, so he knows he’s safe, at least physically, but he braces himself for a verbal lashing.

“You pompous, callous, ungrateful arse! I fear the day Camelot has to suffer under your imbecilic rule, that is if the people don’t kill you first!”

She’s hit him where it hurts, saying he’ll be a bad king not only serves to remind him that he’ll lose his father but also implies that Uther will be disappointed in him, that he already fails as both a son and prince. “Careful Morgana,” he manages to grit out, “your words are treasonous.”

“But they’re the truth aren’t they? I’ve ruffled your feathers, are you going to throw me in the dungeons like you did poor Merlin?”

“’Poor Merlin’? Morgana he’s a farm boy from Cenred’s kingdom with a mental affliction, not some pitiful kitten or child, don’t get involved with him, it’s improper. I’ll have him sacked soon enough, he’s a horrible servant.”

“He’s trying Arthur! It’s you who’s being a horrible master! He’s never served a day in his life, he’s trying to learn, not to mention he’s just come to Camelot so he doesn’t know where things are or who people are.  You can’t yell at him for being late with the practice swords when he’s no idea where the armoury or the training field is and you can’t expect him to fetch Sir Pellinor without giving a description of the man or telling him where he might find him. Not only do you lack patience but don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re assigning unnecessary tasks to scare Merlin off.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He says haughtily.

“Oh? So he wasn’t mucking out the stables despite the fact there are _stable boys_ , or attending to you and the knights on the training field even though there are squires for that? Maybe he wasn’t passing messages for you despite the fact there are pages?”

“Look, I’m trying to do what’s best here. Father won’t let me sack him unless he’s actually done something wrong and I don’t want to suffer through his miserable service, he didn’t even know how to dress me in my armour! He’s not servant material, he’s weak both physically and mentally, it’ll be better for everyone if he just quits.”

“How dare you judge him! Merlin is incredibly sweet and he’s trying Arthur. He keeps coming to me bashfully asking to borrow Gwen because she’s the only other servant he knows and asks her to teach him everything because you couldn’t be bothered to explain, send him to the steward, or assign another servant to train him. It’s not like he wants to serve a condescending arse like you but he needs the money and he’s trying to be honourable and doing as Uther asked.”

“What does a farm boy know of honour?”

“Apparently more than you,” she hisses before schooling her face back to a more neutral expression and continuing. “I’m here because you’re mistreating him and it’s high time you stop this ghastly behaviour.”

“So what? He’s latched onto you because you’ve been foolish enough to pity him and now he’s gone crying to you like you’re his mother?”

She actually stomps her foot at that, “You haven’t been listening and you’re obviously incredibly obtuse. Merlin would never admit weakness, I had to find out the hard way.”

He grits his teeth, this time due to a mixture of irritation and impatience, servants aren’t worth so many words, this is yet another indicator that Merlin is horrible at his job, servants aren’t supposed to be noticed. “Get to the point already Morgana, some of us have things to do.”

“You commanded Merlin to write your speech for the upcoming treaty negotiations.”

He’s sort of left waiting for more but realizing Morgana’s fallen silent he raises his brows and prompts, “And…”

“Knowing how many hours you spent with tutors you’d think this was a bad jest, but it’s not, is it? The great Arthur Pendragon really is this _thick_.” She spits the last word as if it’s a vile thing that offends her and he clenches his fists, unwilling to give her the reaction she wants. “Do I really have to spell it out for you? Only nobles are taught to read and write.”

He snorts, not sure what she’s playing at, “I know that is not true, you send your maidservant to the market with written lists all the time.”

“ _I_ taught Gwen to read and write. Before becoming Uther’s ward even I hadn’t been taught the art, save for the letters and my own name, most people don’t believe it worthwhile to educate women, think it’s a waste of time and resources. When I became Uther’s ward my fate has been sealed, I’ll be married off to some king or prince to form an alliance of some sort, should I ever be widowed it would actually be important that I be capable of reading court documents and for that reason Uther saw it fit to have me educated. While you were often taught with the other young lordlings I was alone, I had no one to discuss my lessons with, no one to practice or study with and as such it was taking me a long time to learn. Gwen has been in my service since the beginning and I had begun to enlist her help in studying, as such I made sure she was always in my chambers during lessons so she could listen in and then we could practice together. I found it beneficial to teach her, I retained the information better that way. Gwen is an exception and while some servants might have picked a bit up off their masters they are nowhere near capable of writing speeches so there is no way you can expect Merlin, who comes from a small farming village to even know his letters.”

“Then it’s his fault for not telling me he’s illiterate!”

“It most certainly is not! What reason does he have to remind you of a basic fact that everyone knows, especially when he figures you already know and are just being cruel. Which, may I remind you, you are, seeing as the person making the speech should stand behind the words they speak, meaning you should be creating it yourself.”

He holds up his hands in both a show of innocence and defence, “Very well Morgana, if it pleases you the next time I see the boy I’ll amend the situation.”

“You better.” And with that she leaves as hastily as she had entered, almost slamming the door on the tail of her blue skirt. Arthur lets his head fall onto his desk and groans. He needs to get rid of this boy, he’s yet again managed to give Arthur a headache and he’s not even present to have done so.

It’s bordering on evening when Merlin finally decides to show his idiotic face. He still lacks the most basic skill sets necessary to a servant so it’s no surprise that he loudly clambers into Arthur’s chambers before noisily setting down the dinner tray and pitcher, successfully spilling some of the red contents on the table and not having the decency to wipe it up, before beginning his inane chatter.

“Sorry I’m late, I got lost on my way to the kitchens, again, by which point the food was cold and they had to warm it up again and that cook, the head one I think? Anyway she’s a menace, I tried to get you a fresh loaf of bread since this one has hardened and she slapped me across my hand with her ladle. Of course before that I was busy with this.” At which point he pulls a scroll out from behind him from where it was probably tucked in his belt, presenting it with a bit of a flourish, but knowing Merlin is probably just his mental affliction acting up, all the while beaming like an idiot.

Arthur reaches out for the scroll and takes it from Merlin’s outstretched hand. He unrolls it and takes a brief glance at it, he feels the urge to snort in amusement but holds it in, if Merlin wants to play this game who is Arthur to deny him? He sets the scroll down before moving to the ewer, attempting to get some of the ink from off his hands before heading towards his (hopefully warm) dinner, and tucking in. Merlin gives him an utterly stupid look.

“Are you even going to read it?”

“I did, and now I’ll be having dinner.”

“There’s no way you could have read it that fast.”

“Merlin, that was your cue to poor my wine.”

“Oh, of course _sire_ , forgive me, I forgot you were incapable of lifting a pitcher and pouring _your_ wine into _your_ goblet.” Arthur frowns at his tone but has given up commenting on it, _he’ll be gone soon_ , he thinks to himself. Merlin’s actions contradict his words as he does pour the wine.

“What does it matter if I read it or not?” He asks, actually somewhat curious, after taking a gulp of wine.

“Well I’ve never written a speech before and so I’m not sure if it sounds pompous enough, if you are going to have me rewrite it I’d rather know now so I’m not doing it last minute.”

“I don’t think you know what pompous means Merlin, seeing as a speech isn’t supposed to sound pompous, it’s supposed to sound sincere and regal.”

“Ah, but it’s your speech _my lord_ , it’s supposed to sound like you, in other words like a prat created it, and forgive me for being insecure _my lord_ it’s just that I’m not quite sure how to sound like a prat, some of us just aren’t born with the gift like you are.”

“I’ll look over it tomorrow then, I’m tired, I’ve been looking over grain reports for the majority of the afternoon. Until then we’ll speak no more on the matter, you’ll clean up once I’m done here and prepare me for the night, then be here with my breakfast tomorrow, preferably on time.”

“As you wish.”

Of course Merlin is late the next morning. Is it sad that after only two weeks Arthur has come to expect this and anything different would cause him to be concerned? After Merlin left last night Arthur had paid a visit to one of his old tutors, Geoffrey.  The man had been surprised to see the prince, the young man never visited the library, that late at night and Geoffrey knew the man was up to something he wouldn’t like. Arthur had managed to get the old man to find him an old dusty tome on servant etiquette, it was intended to hold the teachings necessary to turn one into a perfect servant of the royal household.

Shortly after training, once Merlin was done with the armour and Arthur prepared to brave the council Arthur presents the tome to Merlin. “I want you to have the first chapter read by the time I return. No, this doesn’t mean you are getting out of your chores.” He quickly adds seeing Merlin open his mouth. “I figured it was high time you learn to be a proper servant so I went through the trouble of digging this up.” He pats the man on the back with a smirk on his way out.

Upon his return he is not surprised to find Merlin washing the floors, after all, the boy can’t read and he wouldn’t want to face an even harsher punishment than what he would be receiving for lying. Arthur quickly steps over him tossing his circlet and cloak carelessly on the bed, or at least in the general direction seeing as the fabric flutters to the ground actually managing to drape itself over Merlin’s scrawny backside.  He’s ready to start his interrogation, completely ignoring Merlin’s squawk, when Merlin beats him to it.

“I could take you over my knee for that.”

Arthur can’t help but guffaw at that, “So it’d appear you are capable of humor at least.”

“Oh but I do not jest _your majesty_. That book you so graciously presented me with was amazingly informative. And to think that was only the first chapter! I could hardly contain myself but managed not to read ahead to the second instead starting on my chores.”

Arthur’s a little confused at that, “what?”

“Have you not read it yourself, _my lord_? ‘The personal servant to a prince or a princess is accountable for ensuring their master is fashioned into a humble and respectful person. As such, until they turn of age, the servant should take the young royal over their knee whenever they act in a manner that is not befitting of their station.’ I believe is the approximate wording.”

Arthur finds himself no longer amused, it’s time to get to the point of this whole endeavor. Using his most regal voice he commands, “Show me then.”

Merlin does not hesitate to pull the book from the dining table and proceed to flip through it, his lack of hesitation makes Arthur question himself, what if Morgana was just pulling his leg and servants really can read? He quickly dismisses the idea though because there is no way a servant would be allowed to physically punish their master.

“Here we are.” Merlin declares bringing the book over to Arthur setting it on his desk and pointing at a line of flowing script. And lo and behold, not only is it there but Merlin got the wording almost exact. Arthur scowls, someone must have read it to him and he memorized it, he’d demand Merlin read something else from the chapter but he’s not sure how much he’s memorized. Instead he opts for a safer route and pulls the grain report he was working on yesterday out from under the pile and presents it to Merlin.

“Read this for me.” He doesn’t bother with pretenses now, who cares if Merlin is onto him? He’ll expose the boy this way then it’ll all be over.

“Very well.” Merlin straightens and clears his throat rather obnoxiously before glancing at the parchment. “ _The weather this year was optimal so a large yield was to be expected. With the winter predicted to be a harsh one every farmer shall be required to pay, in lieu of the regular autumn taxes, a quarter of their harvest which will be the majority of which shall be stored for rationing if necessary_.” The stupid smirk makes Arthur want to smack Merlin around the head and send him to the stocks for good measure.

He can’t believe it, Merlin _can_ read, and he’s being smug about it because Arthur didn’t bother to hide his intentions, making it clear to the boy that he thought he was illiterate. “You’ll still have to redo that speech, your penmanship is illegible.” It’s a poor excuse but it actually seems to turn Merlin serious.

“I don’t know if you’re just being petty or not, seeing as Gwen said I have a beautiful hand but she could just be trying to be nice, but if I am to rewrite the damn thing can I least read it to you first so that you can tell me whether or not you even like it?”

This puzzles Arthur a bit, “You mean you really care for my opinion?”

“It’s your speech! Don’t you care about it? I could easily write ‘Arthur Pendragon is a royal prat who is cruel to his servant’ and then what would you do?” Arthur feels a little guilty about not doing his job as prince properly and reaches for the scroll again. The writing is actually legible, it’s not the neatest Arthur’s ever seen, and it looks more like a woman’s hand, but he supposes, considering the price of parchment and ink and quills making practice difficult, it’s incredible. A simple farm boy would not have the means to have a good education and he must’ve actually been very dedicated to have bothered to learn at all when the skill would technically be useless to a farmer.

“The wording here is awkward.” He points out picking up his quill and circling the section. “You should add something about hoping for peaceful negotiations here. And mention something about how both kingdoms would benefit greatly from these talks.”

“Alright, I’ll do that tonight and have this returned to you by tomorrow.” He says rolling up the scroll and tucking it into his belt.

“Merlin,”

“Yes sire?”

“Why did Morgana believe you were uneducated?” Merlin actually looks baffled at that.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps Lady Morgana simply assumed I was like the majority of Camelot’s citizens?”

“You come from Cendred’s kingdom, do you not? Are things different there? Do most people know how to read and write?”

“Quite the opposite actually. I’d never left my village before coming here but I’ve been told that the only people permitted to learn are royalty and the royal advisors anyone else found to have knowledge of the arts can be imprisoned and those teaching them face execution.” How is it that this boy came to be learned then?

“How is it that you are literate then?”

“My mother taught me when I was young. We couldn’t buy books or parchment and ink of course, not that we could afford them, but she’d have me write with a pointed stick in the dirt floor of our hut or read what she had written. Ealdor is on the boarder of Camelot and Cenred can’t be bothered with the outlying villages unless there’s something big at stake, so it wasn’t like knights were constantly hanging around ensuring laws were enforced. I think my mother learned from Gaius, they’re good friends you see, although she just said someone from Camelot taught her and she’d normally refer to Gaius by name. We’d exchange letters, Gaius made sure to include an extra leaf of parchment for us to write back to him, and we made our own ink.”

“Surely it was still risky though? Your father would put his family at risk like that? Or did your mother teach her children in secret.”

“Oh, um, it’s always been just me and my mum.” He says with a slight shrug but there’s a sadness in his eyes. “My father left before they even knew my mother was pregnant. I don’t know much more than that, I think it hurts her to talk about him so I don’t ask. I think he’s dead, at least I think my mother thinks he is.” And the slight beginnings of jealousy dissipate quickly; a mother might be more caring than a father, especially when she only has one child to care for and naught much else to do in life, but this boy, _Merlin_ , is actually quite like Arthur. He’s an only child who lost one parent before he even finished his first wail, the remaining parent refusing to talk about their lost love.

He dismisses Merlin around that time although he can’t quite remember doing so. He finds himself trapped in his own thoughts after that. He knows that he is supposed to adopt his father’s attitude of aloofness towards the servants and he knows Morgana strongly opposes it. He should be the son his father wants him to be but he can’t help but feel the first inklings of respect towards Merlin. Thinking back on it the man might be foolish but he is brave, he might not be a knight or even strong enough to fight but he does have a sense of honour, having saved Arthur’s life and stood up for Morris. He is learned a fact that shows dedication, even if he is an atrocious servant now if he really is trying there is reason to believe he might actually become decent at his job. If he lasts that long because he’s still annoying and Arthur still plans to get rid of him. He’ll put his plans on hold until these newfound feelings of respect fade, which is just a matter of time, after all, a man can only put up with so much ineptitude and he knows Merlin will quickly breech that threshold.

(Those feelings don’t actually get the chance to fade though because Merlin keeps surprising Arthur. Soon after this instance, which Arthur will always remember the beginning, Merlin drinks poison for him and Arthur learns that perhaps his father’s attitude about servants is wrong. Before Arthur knows it his tolerance and respect have transformed into a tentative friendship, something he doesn’t realize is occurring until it is too late because he’d never had a friend before and suddenly he’s unsure how he ever went without. Looking back ten years from now Arthur will hold a small amount of gratitude towards his evil half-sister, even though she is the cause of his pain, because it was her meddling that allowed his friendship with Merlin to form and he couldn’t imagine a more peaceful death than the one where he is held in his dear friend’s arms.)

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is much appreciated! I did edit this fic but it was 10am when I did so after I stayed up all night to write it so if you catch any spelling/grammar errors feel free to let me know.


End file.
